


Pack Mama Bear

by Nyxelestia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Melissa McCall, Gen, Good Parent Melissa McCall, Non-Linear Narrative, Other, POV Melissa McCall, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Violence, Protective Melissa McCall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 19:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18483106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxelestia/pseuds/Nyxelestia
Summary: Five times Melissa McCall questions the men in her life about the way they treated her son - and the one time she questioned herself.





	Pack Mama Bear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liliaeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liliaeth/gifts).



Melissa wasn’t sure why she was so surprised at the big smile on Scott’s face when she’d told him about kissing Chris in the Ghost Riders’ station.

Still, she believed him when he’d taken one of each of their hands his own and said, “I’m happy for you. Both of you.” Then, with a hint of latent mischief in the twinkle of his eyes, he _blasted_ that grin at Chris and said, “Let’s celebrate! How about some beer?”

She frowned, since when did-

“Or maybe some tequila?”

In bewilderment, she looked at Chris, only to see him grimacing sheepishly.

“…I deserve that,” he admitted, though even he seemed amused at whatever they were referencing.

Melissa could take a pretty good guess as to what this was about, _who_ this was about. But a year and a half later, saying her name could still bring a lost look to Scott’s face, and Melissa was sure Chris’ expression would be even worse.

Their smiles were lighting up her kitchen, and Melissa felt no need to dampen them.

So instead, she rolled her eyes and quipped, “And where do you think you’re getting _that_ from, hm?”

Scott snickered, as he wandered over to the fridge — but then reached up to the freezer, pulling out a tub of ice-cream, and tugging out some bowls and spoons after that.

As he doled them out, he smirked at Chris and added, “I’m reserving the right to crash one of your dates and wave my claws in your face.”

Chris looked almost pained as he hunched over, so it took Melissa a moment to realize he was trying to suppress embarrassed laughter.

“I deserve that even more.”

Deserved _what_ , though?

Throughout the evening, over ice-cream, Chinese take-out, and cheesy sports movies, Melissa didn’t press either of them about it.

Just before Scott went upstairs to bed, he stopped before Chris and quietly added, “She would’ve been happy for you, too.”

Said in a soft voice with softer eyes, there was no mistaking just who he was talking about. Chris looked about ready to cry, but he smiled and murmured, “Thank you.”

Neither man — and her baby boy really _was_ a man, now — spoke further.

Melissa was almost thankful at everyone’s collective exhaustion, even days after the Ghost Riders were pushed off and the time-line restored to normal — much as she would’ve loved a repeat performance of the previous night with Chris, there was now a teenager with super-hearing just down the hall, and Melissa had no intention to test the limits of her son’s patience.

Not when she knew he’d been through so much already.

She didn’t really crawl into bed so much as pour herself into it, Chris sliding in behind her. For a moment, she snuggled into his well-defined chest, enjoying the feeling of a warm and caring (and sober) body wrapped around her, after nearly a decade without.

But she couldn’t get their little exchange out of their head.

So in the gloom of the night, she shut her eyes and asked, “Chris?”

There must’ve been something in her tone, since his arms tensed right away. “What was Scott talking about, when he joked about…about crashing your date and waving his claws in your face?”

Because she could sense the pattern without seeing what was behind it, interrupting a date while wielding a weapon. Scott’s weapons were his claws, while Chris’ weapons were…

_I gotta get me one of these!_

…not.

Chris took a deep breath.

“What you’re probably thinking,” he admitted softly. He buried his face in her neck, but her hair didn’t muffle what he said next. “After we found out Scott was a werewolf, I forbid Allison from seeing him. Of course, she didn’t listen…the only time I caught them, I pulled him out of her car and…”

Melissa swallowed. “Pointed a gun at my son?”

His entire body tensed — then loosened as he sighed. She felt his nodding against the pack of her own head.

“Yeah,” he said. “I…I know it’s no excuse, but I was scared, _terrified_ , and I…I thought the only hope I had of protecting Allison was scaring them both enough to stay away from each other.”

Despite her profession, Melissa was no saint, and even as she spoke, she hated herself for muttering, “Yeah, and that worked out so well.”

_That_ made Chris breathe in sharply, his entire body trembling against her own, and Melissa winced. Reaching her hand up to his shapely bicep, she rubbed her fingertips in small circles against his arm and murmured, “I’m sorry. You…neither of you deserved that.”

Chris sniffed, and said thickly, “Not like it isn’t true. I tried to scare Allison…and I succeeded. I scared her so much, she couldn’t even trust _me_ , and learned how to fight for herself. She didn’t ever have to hide behind someone she was scared of, after that…and…and…”

Melissa twisted in his embrace, so she could wrap her arms around Chris. She said nothing as he pressed his face into her neck, she said nothing as she felt tears trickling down her shoulder, and she said nothing as he fell apart beside her.

That did not mean she kept her peace, though. She could not see the moon through her window, but silvery light poured in nonetheless, casting the pile of laundry on her chair into a mess of highlights and shadows, reflecting off her little vanity, and obscuring the screen of her old radio-alarm clock.

She had no idea how long it was that he sobbed. A few minutes? A few hours? Did it matter?

But when the shuddering subsided, and she stroked his hair, she murmured, “Chris…I like you. I think I might even grow to love you…but if you _ever_ point a gun at him again, any kind of weapon…” She took a deep breath, praying that everything Scott told her about Allison was true — or at least, true to Chris. “I’ll send you to Allison, myself, and let her deal with you.”

Chris’ swallowing was audible even to her human ears as he pulled his head away and nodded.

“I’d deserve nothing less.”


End file.
